Brave Boy (Perfect Boys Book 2)

by K. M. Neuhold

  Daddy: If that’s what you want.

  BraveBoy: It is. Thank you, Daddy. I was so confused and felt so guilty. I should’ve asked you before agreeing to go with him tonight, and I was so worried you’d never want to talk to me again.

  Daddy: It’s okay, sweet boy. I WOULD like to know what’s going on with you, just so I can make sure you’re safe. But I’m not upset, and I’m glad you talked to me about it.

  BraveBoy: Thank you. Will you tell me about your day? Or…do you think you could call just so I can hear your voice?

  His request lights me up from head to toe before giving me pause. I called last night, but we were both so lust-drunk that he didn’t recognize my voice. What if he can tell? I wrestle with the question. I don’t want to purposefully hide anything from him and not calling for fear he’ll recognize my voice feels like exactly that. I won’t come right out and tell him, but I won’t purposefully deceive him either. That’s the best way I can take care of my boy. And it is starting to feel like he’s mine. If I don’t rush, if I’m as patient as he needs me to be, he might be mine one day.

  I hit the button to call, and he answers on the first ring. He doesn’t say a word, but I can hear the sound of his breathing through the phone.

  “Hey there, my brave sweet boy,” I murmur into the phone, kicking off my shoes and lying back on my bed. “My bed is so big and empty. I hope it’s okay that I’m imagining you here with me, cuddled up close while we talk about how our days were.”

  He makes a sound that I take as agreement, or at least that he wants me to keep painting that picture for him. “I love the idea of naked cuddle time right after work before we move on to the rest of our evening. It sounds like a wonderful transition from workday to our time together. You know, I’ve never had a boy all my own to come home to every night, but I’ve certainly given the idea a lot of thought.”

  “Mm,” he hums another happy noise, and now that I’m listening for it, I’m convinced I can recognize his voice, even in just that simple sound. Maybe I’m being a bit silly, but it feels like fate that we found each other on the app. Or maybe it just means we’re compatible.

  “I have an idea, why don’t I read to you.” I reach for the book that’s on my nightstand, a classic I’ve been trying to get through for my book club. I swear, while I was on a mission to pick something exciting, everyone else is desperate to prove how literary they are. But maybe it will be more enjoyable to read aloud to my boy than it is to read to myself. “Call me Ishmael,” I read in a deep timbre.

  Emerson makes noises every so often on the other end, letting me know he’s still there, and he’s listening. And eventually the noises turn to soft snores.

  I set the book aside and listen to him breathe for a few minutes before whispering “goodnight” and hanging up the phone.

  Chapter 10

  Emerson

  My fingers fly over my keyboard, a dirty grin spread over my lips. All of the sexy chats Daddy and I have had in the past couple of weeks have given me tons of fuel for my erotica stories, and my readers have been eating it up. There’s even been some speculation on my social media pages about what could’ve brought about all the new, extremely detailed stories.

  I squirm, my cock hardening as the story unfolds on my screen of a boy who gets off on almost getting caught, so he jerks off on his balcony where his next-door neighbor—AKA the Daddy of his dreams—can hear every gasp and moan. I wonder if Daddy would be interested in role playing some of my stories with me—for research purposes, of course.

  The alarm on my phone sounds, dragging me out of the story in a jarring way.

  “Damn,” I mutter, saving the doc and closing my laptop. I should’ve known better than to get lost in writing when I’m supposed to go to Sterling’s tonight so Nolan can give us all the details on the launch plans for our libraries, and I can update everyone on the book donations we now have rolling in.

  I slide off the bed and lazily palm my half-hard cock. Maybe I can get Daddy to call me later for one of our dirty chats. In the meantime, I need to stop playing with my dick and get dressed so I can leave.

  While I dig through my dresser, I wonder if Kiernan might stop by the house at all tonight. He’s been into the bookstore more and more but hasn’t asked me out for another meal. Although sometimes it seems like he wants to, like he’s torn about it. Maybe he doesn’t want to send me the wrong message? Or maybe he’s met someone else. The thought is disappointing, even if I’m falling harder for Daddy every day.

  I pull out my unicorn shirt and look at it, trying to decide what to do. Daddy said it was okay, that I can get to know Kiernan better. But does that include dressing with the other man in mind?

  With a huff, I toss the shirt aside and grab a different one, plain purple this time, completely devoid of mythical horses. I finish getting dressed and then hustle out the door, sending a quick apology to Sterling about running late before getting in my car.

  By the time I arrive, Nolan’s car is already in the driveway. Sterling greets me at the front door with a smile and a hug, ushering me inside and offering a drink.

  “N-no thanks.”

  Nolan and Gannon are waiting in the living room for us, taking up the loveseat like usual. I notice Nolan brushing his hand against Gannon’s arm, trying to make it seem casual, but the way he watches the quiet man makes me think he’s trying to get his attention without being too obvious. Silly boy, he should know he already has Gannon’s attention.

  “S-s-sorry I’m late.” I grab a seat and flip open my notebook to where I left off during our last meeting.

  “Ain’t no problem,” Sterling assures me.

  “Yeah, we were just gossiping,” Nolan agrees, bumping his knee against Gannon’s subtly.

  “Why don’t we start with you,” Sterling says, nodding toward me.

  “Sure.” I launch into telling them all about how successful the social media campaign I’ve been running is doing and also how willing the other bookstores in the area have been to help. All told, we should have plenty of books to start with, and we can continue to grow our collection from there. “Once we s-start showing up in c-c-communities, it will be even easier t-to get people to donate.”

  “That’s so great. I thought it would be a lot harder than that.”

  “Nah, you j-j-just need the right m-mmm-messaging.”

  “You’re killing it, Em,” Nolan says, sounding both impressed and surprised. Should I be offended by that? He tilts his head like he’s studying me, and I try not to squirm. “There’s something different about you.”

  I glance down at myself and run my fingers self-consciously through my short hair. “L-l-like what?”

  “Hmm, I’m not sure.” He taps his chin, his gaze still fixed on me. “It’s like you’re more confident or something.”

  A shaky laugh escapes me. More confident? I highly doubt that. Then again, I’ve never been exposed to the constant stream of compliments Daddy loves to text me. Maybe they’re seeping into my brain and making me more self-assured.

  I shrug one shoulder.

  “Things going well with your Daddy?” Sterling guesses, and my cheeks heat. He takes that as confirmation. “We should go on a double date.”

  I fight back another slightly panicky bout of laughter. A double date? I haven’t even worked up the courage to meet the man yet. He’s been so patient and sweet about it, but that can’t hold forever. Eventually, I’ll have to step outside of this amazing, happy bubble we’ve been living in and actually meet the man. But there are so many things that can go wrong once that happens. I’m not ready to gamble what we have yet just to find out what could be.

  “Eventually,” I agree vaguely.

  Sterling sticks his bottom lip out in a pout but doesn’t push it. And then we get back to the reason we’re all here, discussing the mobile library project.

  Kiernan

  I pull into Barrett’s driveway right behind the man himself, with Alden bringing up the rear in hi
s brand-new Lexus. I’m not sure if the stink of loneliness on Alden and myself was just too much to bear, prompting Barrett to invite us over for dinner, or if he simply misses our company. Not that I can blame him for being so wrapped up in Sterling, but we don’t spend nearly as much time together as we all used to.

  When I get out of my car, I notice a few extra vehicles in the driveway as well. Barrett frowns, scratching his chin. “Damn, I forgot Sterling was holding a meeting at the house tonight. We’ll have to stay out of their hair. Luckily, I bought more than enough food for everyone.”

  My heart leaps at the prospect of spending some time with Emerson tonight. I’ve been careful to keep my distance the past few weeks, not wanting to put him in an uncomfortable position or needlessly confuse the poor boy. But surely one dinner among friends won’t hurt anything. I can get my Em fix, and he doesn’t have to feel guilty about it. It’s a win-win.

  Alden’s eyes linger on the beat-up Toyota that must belong to Nolan, the bumper barely hanging on and a crack in the back windshield. Surely, we pay the man enough to afford a better car than that.

  The three of us head up the large steps and into the house. As soon as I’m through the door, the sound of Emerson’s laughter echoes down the hallway, stopping me in my tracks immediately. My heart stutters to a stop and then breaks into a gallop. I want to be the reason he makes such a lovely sound. I want it more than I want my next breath. I want it more than I want every dime in my bank account.

  “Are you all right?” Barrett asks, eyeing me with concern.

  I drag in a breath, not realizing I was so stunned I forgot to for a minute or so. And then I nod. “I’m fine.”

  I loosen my tie and run my fingers through my hair, freeing it from the neatly combed state I try to preserve during the workday, and then I follow Barrett into his kitchen. Alden helps himself to pouring the three of us drinks while Barrett lays out ingredients, and I grab a knife and get to work chopping the vegetables he hands me. It’s a familiar, peaceful process. We all chat and laugh while we work, the smell of cooking food eventually luring the boys into the kitchen as well.

  “I thought we might have kitchen fairies,” Sterling teases, crossing the kitchen and letting himself be pulled into Barrett’s arms for a kiss.

  I glance over and find Emerson lingering in the doorway, casting a shy look in my direction. My eyes drop to his shirt. No unicorn today. Did he not think there was a possibility he’d see me, or did he avoid wearing it on purpose? The thought makes me feel warm and chilled all at once. If he was dressing with me in mind before, what does it mean that he’s not now? Is this a sign that he’s falling for Daddy and putting me out of his mind? And exactly how batshit does it make me to be jealous of myself?

  “Swe-” I catch myself just in time before my mouth runs away with me, clearing my throat to hide my awkward stumble. “Emerson.”

  He snaps his eyes to me and straightens up instantly, causing satisfaction to curl around the pit of my stomach. It takes every ounce of restraint I have not to murmur good boy.

  “Y-y-yes?” he asks in nearly a whisper.

  “Come set the table.”

  He nods quickly, scurrying into the kitchen to grab a stack of plates. I let my eyes fall on his biteable little ass as he carries them out of the room.

  “Kiernan,” Barrett says my name in a low rumble, clearly a warning.

  “Fuck off,” I respond flatly, earning me a single ha from Alden in between sips of scotch. By his standards, it might as well have been a full guffaw.

  Barrett scowls, but doesn’t snap back. Instead he kisses his boy’s head and gives him a gentle pat on the ass. “Dinner’s almost ready, why don’t you help Emerson set the table.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” he says sweetly, flouncing off to grab the silverware.

  There’s a lovely, familial feeling when we all sit down for dinner a short time later. I position myself right across from Emerson.

  Nolan and Sterling keep up most of the chatter throughout the meal, but what they talk about, I couldn’t tell you. I’m far too busy being mesmerized by every shape Emerson’s lips form and every twitch of his expression, from the shy smiles to the almost rapturous appreciation of the food. He’s more enthralling than whatever pretentious movie won the Oscars this year.

  Will Emerson and I ever get to have what Barrett and Sterling do? Will he be angry when he finds out that I’m LonelyDaddy? I’ve been struggling for weeks now about my deception, but with Em not being ready for the next step, I feel like I’m trapped between a rock and a hard place. I can either tell him and force him to deal with the situation before he’s ready for the next step, or I can cut off communication all together. Neither of those options are acceptable.

  When we finish eating, I slip out onto the large back porch to clear my head. There’s a beautiful view of the desert with the mountains in the distance. I take a deep breath and brace my hands against the intricately carved railing.

  “Oh, s-s-sss-sorry, I didn’t know anyone w-w-was out here.”

  I look over my shoulder to find Emerson trying to slip back inside. “Wait.”

  He stops and looks back at me warily. “I s-sss-s…”

  “I won’t bite,” I promise. “Come keep me company for a minute or two.”

  He tugs his lush bottom lip between his teeth, looking back and forth between me and the house, clearly torn. I hold my breath while I wait for his answer, my heart hammering. There’s little doubt that he’s smitten with LonelyDaddy, but I need some kind of sign that I might actually have a shot with him.

  “Okay,” he finally says, stepping outside and closing the sliding glass door behind him. He joins me by the railing, leaning against it and taking a deep breath just like I did. “S-s-such a nice view.”

  “It is,” I agree. “You should see my place, it’s out in the desert with an infinity pool around the back. The stars overhead at night are absolutely awe-inspiring.” I’m not sure if I’m bragging or trying to tempt him. Or perhaps it’s simply nervous chatter.

  “I bet guys l-l-ll-like that.”

  Do I detect a hint of jealousy? It’s so hard to tell.

  “Some,” I answer. “But, between you and me, the boys who are particularly smitten with my pool don’t often stay long after they’ve dried off.”

  Emerson frowns. “They s-s-ss-sound s-s-s-sss…” He stops and licks his lips. “They’re idiots.”

  I chuckle. “That is entirely possible,” I agree. “I’ve been working on finding different boys. Maybe then I won’t be quite so lonely.” I let the word hang between us, realizing I’m tempting fate. Or maybe I’m hoping Emerson will come to the right conclusion on his own.

  He doesn’t say anything, just nods and continues to enjoy the view. I’m not sure how long we stand there, shoulder to shoulder, sharing a comfortable silence before Em speaks again.

  “Did you not l-l-like the b-b-books I recommended?” he asks, sounding adorably shy.

  “What? I loved them. Didn’t I tell you that when we shared dinner?” I try to think back. We discussed literature quite at length, I’ll be surprised if I didn’t mention enjoying the books.

  “It’s just that y-y-you haven’t b-been b-b-bb-back.”

  My heart swells. Part of me wondered if he noticed or minded that I’d stayed away. I guess I have my answer.

  “I’ve been busy. I’ll stop by this week though, so why don’t you make a stack of recommendations for me.”

  “How about j-just one so y-y-you don’t stay away s-so long?” he barters, his cheeks turning pink at the same time that he fights a sweet smile.

  “Deal.”

  We head back inside after that, rejoining our friends in the midst of what seems to be an argument between Alden and Nolan about the dilapidated car in the driveway. The pretty twink doesn’t seem all that impressed with Alden’s concern, and the whole thing has brought a scowl to Gannon’s already serious face.

  Whatever’s going on there, Alden clearly ha
s his work cut out for him.

  I make my excuses a short time later, eager to get home and message my boy. He must’ve had the same thought because there’s a text waiting for me as soon as I’m stripped down and in bed.

  BraveBoy: I’ve been thinking about you. Will you call me and tell me about your day? I want to close my eyes and pretend we’re together.

  My fingers itch to respond that we can be together. All he has to do is say the word, and I’ll go straight to his place or send a driver to bring him to mine. But he knows we live in the same city. If he was ready to meet, he would’ve said it. So I hit the call button and settle against my pillow.

  “Hi there, my brave boy,” I say into the phone, joy filling me at the happy sigh that I receive in reply. “I hope you’re ready to be bored to sleep because my day primarily involved going over contracts.”

  He chuckles but, of course, doesn’t say anything. I take that as tacit agreement, and I launch into a terribly dry recitation of my day spent mainly counting down the hours until I could be home talking with him. I leave out the dinner party for obvious reasons, and before long, his soft, rhythmic breathing alerts me that he’s asleep.

  “Good night, sweetheart,” I whisper before hanging up.

  Hopefully, he’ll be ready to meet soon. I want him in my arms, in my bed, in my life. I just hope like hell that he’ll want that too.

  Chapter 11

  Emerson

  I trudge up the steps to my apartment, exhausted after another long day preceded by a very late night. Unfortunately, last night wasn’t even anything particularly fun. I was working on some stuff for the mobile libraries and ended up losing track of time. I yawn and reach into my pocket for my apartment key, stopping short when I see a package leaning against my door.

  I bend down to pick it up, turning it over to check the label and make sure it’s for me. I can’t think of anything I’ve ordered recently, and the mail carrier has a habit of mixing up apartment numbers.